


heal me, lift me (and you will heal the hurt in me)

by sammyspreadyourwings



Series: Queen Prompts [60]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Caretaking, Drabble, Established Relationship, Headaches & Migraines, Hotel Sex, Hurt Brian May, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medicine, Mother Hen Roger Taylor, Multi, Sickfic, Touring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:20:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23119870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammyspreadyourwings/pseuds/sammyspreadyourwings
Summary: Brian suffers from migraines, the boys make it a little more bearable.
Relationships: John Deacon/Brian May/Freddie Mercury/Roger Taylor
Series: Queen Prompts [60]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1265597
Comments: 4
Kudos: 68





	heal me, lift me (and you will heal the hurt in me)

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble - might have been a prompt fill. Don't remember lol

Brian stumbles into his hotel room. A sharp ringing in his ears that has nothing to do with the show. His vision blurs and distorts with the shimmery fairies from the edge of his vision. The air condition sounds like a jet engine and he stumbles over to try and turn it off.

He can’t, but he sets it to low and things sound better now. His stomach twists, and he fumbles for the trashcan. The metal clamoring makes him whine, but the bile rising in his throat cuts him off.

The only thing he has had today was water because he felt the pressure building behind his eye. He coughs and wipes the back of his hand over his mouth. Stomach slightly more settled he makes sure to grab the trash can as he settles on the bed.

Brian sobs as the air conditioner makes a scraping noise. His head throbs out of time with it, and he feels the tackiness in his mouth. Water might help somewhat. At least with his comfort level. Now that he is in the bed, he doesn’t want to move.

Instead, he burrows his head under the pillow to try and block out the minuscule amount of light that is entering his room. Brian brings his knees to his chest and digs his blunt nails into the skin of his wrist. When it doesn’t relieve his pain he just starts sobbing.

Which of course jostles his head. The throbbing grows in intensity. He bites his lips to quiet himself, but the damage has already been done. When he opens his eyes all he can see is patchy blackness. His stomach twists again.

As he moves, their joining door opens. Light floods into his room. He gags and cries and manages to spit weakly into the bin. The light is sending sharp spikes of pain down his spine and back up behind his eye. He presses his palm against it. It helps so he presses harder.

Someone is grabbing at his wrist. Brian resists the tugging. This is the only thing that’s helped him. He grits his teeth and forces his vocal cords to work.

“Lights.”

He feels someone twist around. Brian keeps his eyes closed and ignores the harsh whispers coming from the person next to him. When the person pushes him back down, he goes willingly. The lights are off now. Unfortunately, the harsh panting of the person next to him is doing nothing for his head.

The breathing just rattles around his skull until it settles down into a sharp throb behind his eye. He rolls away from the person, but a hand settles on his shoulder.

“Brian? Are you okay?”

_John._ His brain notes tiredly. Even at the quiet tone, the voice still makes his toes curl with the pain. Talking again, sounds and feels like a really bad idea.

Brian gasps at a particularly sharp throb.

“You’re scaring me.”

He hisses and tries to remember how to form words. Something warm is placed on his face and he jumps. Wait. Some placed a warm washrag over his eyes and nose. It feels nice.

Not that it’s doing anything for the pain.

“It’s one of his migraines, Deaky.”

Ah. Freddie. Thanks. He mouths the word. Or at least moves his lips. They probably can’t see him with how dark it is. Brian presses the rag against his still throbbing eye and sighs in satisfaction. The hand on his back doesn’t stop the soothing rotation.

Freddie and John’s breathing has quieted down enough that the air conditioner covers it. So, all in all, he’s slightly more comfortable even though the pain hasn’t lessened.

Something rattles a few meters away. He whines at the noise which echoes around the room. Freddie hisses at the noise, but then his shoulder is being tugged at. Brian pushes himself up, keeping the rag over his eyes and his eyes closed.

“Pills,” Freddie says in explanation.

“Your migraine pills,” Roger whispers.

Ah. Right. Roger knows about the pills. It’s been a while since one knocked him out faster than he could take the medication. He holds out his hand and feels one drop into his palm.

Brian swallows it dry. Someone is pressing a glass into his hand. It feels cool, so it’s probably water. A sip confirms it. Despite his stomach twisting in warning, he drains the entire thing. At least it lessens the stiffness in his back. John, he thinks judging by the hand, pushes him back to the bed. He curls on his other side.

Soft shuffling drives the throbs down his spine and up back behind his eyes. It quits after a few minutes. Brian tosses the rag over the side of the bed when it cools completely. There’s no light and the air conditioner seems quieter.

The medicine doesn’t take long to kick in, he feels drowsier and there’s no relief from the throbbing. He doesn’t fight the call to sleep, knowing that it would die down when he wakes up.

* * *

Brian was right in that the pain would be less when he woke up. There’s still a dull ache behind his eye, but he can open them, and the light doesn’t make him want to claw his eyes. His mouth feels disgusting and his stomach growls. He feels better, which he knows is only a break in the pattern. The headache will come back in an hour, less if he pushes himself.

Well, brushing his teeth and raiding the mini bar for something isn’t pushing himself.

The door opens a few moments after he put the brush in his mouth. It’s Freddie, content to lean against the wall across from the bathroom while he finishes. Brian nods.

“Feeling better?”

“For now.”

“It’s coming back?”

“Mm.”

Brian moves past him to look at what is in the minibar. A few packages of the local sweets, bottled water, and strangely enough peanuts? He picks out the peanuts and a bottle of sparkling water.

Freddie tilts his head.

“The fizz helps with my stomach.”

“So now you’re hungry?”

“For the time being, I don’t really fancy taking more medication on an empty stomach,” he pops the top off, “and I’ve had enough experience with ulcers to want to avoid them.”

He knows his words were a mistake at Freddie’s wince.

“Sorry.”

Freddie shrugs. He manages to get the package open with minimal struggle. They’re unsalted and he frowns at the bland taste. It’s probably better for him anyway. He catches the pill bottle when Freddie tosses it to him after he finishes his food.

“You’ll be ready to go tomorrow, right?”

“Well enough.”

He pops the pill and drains the rest of the bottle. Thankfully his stomach isn’t rebelling.

Roger and John pop their heads into his room.

“Ah, you’re up.”

“For the moment.”

Roger wanders over to him and starts pulling him over to his bed. Brian resists more out of habit.

“You know. They say sex prevents migraines,” Roger wiggles his eyebrows.

Brian snorts, then regrets that action when it causes a particularly sharp spike of pain, “then I imagine I wouldn’t suffer from them if that were true.”

Roger taps his chin in thought as he falls back against the bed. Brian falls next to him and then curls onto his shoulder. Freddie climbs in behind him and John takes up the length of the bed above their heads.

“Maybe we should have sex while you have a break between them? Test the theory?”

John swats at Roger, who catches the hand and kisses the palm, “hey I’m trying to be helpful!”

“No, you’re just horny.”

“I didn’t know the two feelings were exclusive.”

Freddie lets out a particularly high-pitched laugh. Brian winces at the second sharp spike of pain. He’s probably pushing it, staying up and talking so much, except he missed his bandmates. It’s only been eight hours, but still.

He grabs the soft fabric of Roger’s t-shirt and buries his noses into the space of his neck. John starts rubbing circles on his scalp. The monotony quickly becomes soothing and with Freddie “playing” the piano in his arm, Brian knows that this time when he wakes up the headache will be gone, and he’ll be able to rock the hearts of his fans and lovers.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, leave your thoughts and comments below or come talk to me on tumblr!


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